


shine on me

by spacetriangles



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Eating Disorders, Emotional Infidelity, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Pining, Slow Burn, i thiiiiiiiiink thats it, oh and theres a homophobic slur used once, ohhhh wait, very mild sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 19:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15056405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacetriangles/pseuds/spacetriangles
Summary: Chan's life is going great, it really is, until he realizes that maybe he wants something else. Maybe, for some reason, he can't stop thinking about that Minho guy. He's cool, he's nice, he's pretty, he's so interesting and fun to be around, and Chan is starting to think that he might be fucked.





	shine on me

**Author's Note:**

> hello guys! so first of all i just want to say that if you hadnt already carefully looked at the tags, please do so again and proceed with caution, there's nothing too bad or graphic but i'd rather be safe than sorry ! since i'm dealing with sensitive subjects, if there's anything that i handled really wrong, please kindly let me know. though quite a bit is based off of personal experience, because i like to project :^p 
> 
> second of all! the title comes from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJezGUWDExE), which also happens to be the song that this fic was inspired by. loosely
> 
> anyway please enjoy

Today was a fantastic day! Chan got back a very good result on that math test he was sure he failed, his girlfriend made him a tasty lunch, he had a blast with his friends in gym class and he just finished soccer practice, in which he received a lot of praise from his coach. He felt a little bit insecure yesterday for no particular reason, but right now he’s not sure why he was down in the first place. His life is pretty good in general, and he feels blessed to be doing so well. The only thing he’s afraid of is whether or not high school is going to be his peak, but that’s a worry for another time.

He finishes downing his water bottle and throws it into his bag, which he throws over his shoulder. Chan takes out his phone to check the time and notices that he’s received a few texts from his mom, mainly about what they’re eating for dinner and not to be late. He smiles to himself and texts her back to say that it won’t be a problem. The dark haired boy is walking down the hallway as he does this, and only looks up from his phone when he lightly brushes against another person. He looks back at them and quickly apologizes, even though he knows it wasn’t that big of a deal.

The person staring back at him is a guy in his year, he believes. He has light brown hair, hoops in his ears, rips in his jeans, and a lazy look on his face. Chan expects for some sort of mean remark, but is surprised when he hears the boy say, “It’s alright.” His voice is much sweeter than he expected it to be. “Must be hard being an athlete, huh?”

Chan feels taken aback, not having expected that there would be any sort of conversation between them. “How did you know I play any sports?” he asks.

The guy laughs at him and replies, “Oh, I don’t know. Your whole get up? That duffel bag you’re holding? Just your aura.” He quirks his eyebrows as Chan looks down on himself.

“I guess you’re right,” he answers a second later, giggling to himself.

They stare at each other for a second before the boy says, “So? Answer my question.” He crosses his arms leisurely, as if he’s got all the time in the world to stand around and chat.

“Oh, uh,” he hesitates. “It’s not really that hard. I mean, kind of I guess, but it’s something I’m very passionate about, so I don’t really mind,” he answers simply. “What are _you_ doing here after classes? Doesn’t seem like you’re very sporty.”

The guy laughs again, and although Chan feels like he’s being laughed at, there’s something about it that makes him feel lighter. Like the laughter is contagious, almost. “I’m minding my own business, that’s what.”

Chan pouts. “That’s not fair, you know so much about me already and I don’t know anything about you. Tell me something.”

The boy hums contemplatively, raising his fingers to his chin. “Let’s just say,” he starts, “that I was doing something that I should be doing, and something that I probably shouldn’t be doing.” He smiles sweetly.

“What does that mean?” Chan asks, confused. “Is the ‘something I probably shouldn’t be doing’ thing drugs?” he asks plainly.

The guy smiles even wider and winks at him. “Dunno. Could be, could not be. Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll see you around, uh…” he stops, as if expecting Chan to give him his name.

“Chan. Or Chris, if that’s easier for you,” he answers. “And I’ll see you too,” he doesn’t finish his sentence raising a hand waiting for the other’s name as well.

“Minho. Have a nice evening, Chan.”

And with that, they part ways. Chan starts walking back home, as he doesn’t live too far. He thinks about who this Minho guy is, and why he doesn’t feel like he’s seen him around before. He also thinks about whether or not he was really doing drugs. His eyes _did_ seem kind of red.. Whatever, it’s none of his business. He knows too many people who smoke weed, he doesn’t care enough to judge.

 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit around with me?” Annie asks him, holding his hand and whining a little.

“Babe, I sat around with you yesterday. You know I like being with you, but I can’t just ditch my friends all the time,” Chan tries reasoning with his girlfriend, who huffs a bit.

“I know, I know. I just wanted to see if I could convince you,” she giggles. “Have fun with the boys, Chris.” She waves him off, and he makes his way over to his friend group after kissing her cheek.

“You’re gross, I saw that,” is Jisung’s way of greeting him once he sits down at their table.

“Saw what?” Chan raises an eyebrow as a challenge.

“Your disgusting affection towards your girlfriend,” Woojin states, already halfway through his meal.

“You guys are just jealous.” He’s the only one in his friend group to actually have a girlfriend, although he thinks that Changbin might be dating someone. The guy isn’t really too open with talking about that kind of stuff though, so he’ll never know.

Chan starts zoning in and out of the conversation going on around him, only half interested in the new Youtuber that Felix has been watching lately. As he scans the cafeteria, his eyes land on a particular head of light brown hair. He stops and observes the figure more, squinting slightly to make sure it’s who he thinks it is. The person turns a bit and yeah, it’s that dude.

“Hey,” he asks, interrupting whatever was being said. “Does anybody know that guy over there?” He points towards the figure that he was staring at a couple of seconds ago. His friends turn around to look at where he’s pointing.

“Which guy?” asks Changbin. “There are so many guys, Chan.” He sounds exasperated saying that.

“The one with the light brown hair, grey hoodie,” Chan clarifies, hoping that it’s enough of a description.

“Oh,” Jisung draws out, “Minho?” he asks.

“Yes!” Chan exclaims and snaps his fingers then points at Jisung. “Who is he?”

“How do you know Minho?” Jisung asks, not answering the question, to Chan’s chagrin.

“I don’t, that’s why I’m asking you. I ran into him yesterday and had a pretty weird encounter. He asked me if playing sports was hard,” he answers.

“Really?” Jisung sounds surprised. “That doesn’t seem like something he’d do. He’s not really talkative. He’s in a couple of classes of mine and I’ve worked on projects with him before,” he explains. “Are you sure that it was him you ran into though?”

“I mean, yeah. I’m pretty sure.” Chan pauses. “Does he have earrings?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Then I do think it was him,” he states plainly.

Jisung hums. “Again, I doubt that he would say something like that, or anything at all. But hey, people are weird. Who knows.”

There’s a lull in the conversation before a realization dawns on Chan. “Oh, does he do drugs?” he asks abruptly.

At that, his friend bursts out laughing. “No? There’s no way. He’s too much of a good kid to do anything like that.” He continues wheezing for a short while.

When somebody learns a new word, they suddenly start hearing it being used around everywhere, right? Well, Chan thinks he’s having a case of that, except it’s not a word, it’s a person, and that person is Minho. He starts seeing him in the hallway, just passing by, sees Jisung chatting with him every now and then, and hears his name being said once in a while. He had no knowledge of this dude prior to their encounter, but now it feels like he’s supposed to at least have a vague idea of who he is. It’s mildly distressing, but he doesn’t know why.

   
  
  
He doesn’t really interact with Minho until somewhere like half a month later, when he runs into him at a Starbucks not too far from their school. Chan enters the shop and there aren’t many people in it. He orders his drink and goes to wait at the bar, where there’s only one other person waiting and, yes, that’s right, that person is Minho. They make eye contact and Chan does this weird half smile thing where he stretches his mouth, but doesn’t actually smile, because he doesn’t even know if Minho remembers him or not, or if they’re on smiling level. To his relief, Minho smiles back at him, but his smile seems much more at ease. Chan feels somewhat intimidated.

“Hey,” Chan greets in what he thinks is a cool manner, kind of leaning against the counter, but not really. Fuck, he doesn’t remember what being casual looks like.

“Hey,” Minho mirrors. “It’s been a while.”

“It has.” Why does he feel so weird talking to this random guy he barely knows. It’s not like Chan generally has a hard time speaking to people, even those he’s unfamiliar with. Maybe he feels bad because it seems like he should know him, but he doesn’t.

“I see you around in the hallways and stuff a lot,” Minho starts. “Oh and, just so you know, I actually knew you played soccer when I spoke to you that time. Jisung talks about you sometimes. I’m guessing that he’s never really talked about me, though,” he says with a faint air of sardonicism in his tone.

Chan feels bad. “No, he has spoken about you before,” he clarifies. “I’m just really awful at remembering names and faces and all, especially if I haven’t personally spoken to the person,” he tries to say in hopes that it would make Minho feel better.

Minho nods and turns around when his order is called out. He grabs his drink, something obviously chocolaty and sweet, with whipped cream. “So, where are you headed after this?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Probably just home,” Chan answers. “Didn’t have practice today, and I was craving a java chip frap.”

“You’re allowed to have that kind of thing?” Minho asks. When Chan gives him a confused look he adds, “Well, you know. Don't you have some sort of physique to maintain?”

“Oh, yeah. I do. It’s not like I’m not allowed to treat myself once in a while, though,” he explains. Minho hums in acknowledgement as he takes a sip of his drink. “What about you? You heading anywhere?”

“Nope, same as you. Got a craving, so here I am. Then I’ll go home and sleep or something,” he jokes. Or maybe he’s serious. Chan isn’t sure.

“Wanna sit around and chat for a bit?” Chan offers as his drink gets called out. He takes it and turns back to wait for Minho’s response.

“Sure,” the boy shrugs.

They find a table and sit in front of each other, placing their bags on the floor underneath them. The air is mildly awkward around them, and Chan curses at himself for not thinking of something to talk about. He’s gonna seem real stupid asking to chat if they don’t actually chat.

“Oh,” something comes into his mind. “So what was it that you were actually doing that day we bumped into each other. Jisung told me there’s no way you’d do drugs.”

Minho blankly stares at him before he registers what Chan is talking about. “Ah,” he giggles a bit, “I was just finishing up on a team project that I had with someone. No drugs involved.”

Chan laughs and asks, “Then why didn’t you just say so?” Minho shrugs. “Also, I’m assuming that’s the thing you said you were supposed to be doing. What’s the thing you _weren’t_ supposed to be doing?”

Minho thinks for a bit before answering, “That same project. It was due the day before, but we lied to the teacher about a mishap, so technically we weren’t supposed to be doing it at that time.”

Chan snorts. They sit around talking idly about what project it was, something about the Great Depression, then they talk about Jisung and how ridiculous but lovable he is. A thought eventually pops into Chan’s head. “Hey, so you know that I’m passionate about soccer, but what’s something that you’re passionate about?”

Minho takes a moment to think, and eventually answers, “I guess dance? I don’t take lessons or anything, just try to practice as much as I can at home.”

Chan lights up at that. “That’s pretty cool! I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance, but I guess soccer ended up taking over.”

“Ah, I see,” Minho says. “Nothing is stopping you if you want to try it once in a while though. It’s not too hard to learn the basics,” he explains, taking a final sip from his drink.

“I guess,” Chan says and thinks. The only thing stopping him is his own insecurity, probably. He doesn’t quite know where to start either. “Yeah, maybe when I have a bit more free time. School is hard. Balancing things is hard.”

“School is hard, I’ll agree with that.” They sit around in silence, Minho trying to suck up the remaining of his whipped cream from his cup, and Chan staring into the distance.

“Anything else that you like to do in your free time?” Chan asks eventually.

“Nothing that’s super interesting. I read books sometimes,” the other boy replies, finally putting his cup down.

“Really? What kind of books?” Chan asks, genuinely curious. It’s not often that he hears people say that they actually read books in their free time. He’s impressed.

“All kinds I guess. Just whatever seems interesting. My favorite author is Keigo Higashino though,” Minho says and runs a hand through his hair, exposing his forehead. Chan thinks it’s a nice forehead, and then thinks it’s weird that he finds a forehead to be nice. Not a thought he’s had before.

“I’ve never heard of him, though I don’t really read much,” he admits, feeling just a little bit clueless. And maybe a little insecure, because Minho does interesting stuff like dancing and reading, while he’s just sort of a jock. He would never admit that he feels that way, though.

“That’s alright,” Minho reassures him. A light reflects off of the earring on his right ear, and Chan finds himself staring at the other boy’s ear piercings, on both ears. He thinks it’s kind of hot, and wishes that he had the courage to get his own ears pierced like that. It’s not even that big of a deal, and it’s not like he’s afraid of the idea of getting pierced in itself, he just doesn’t know how his parents would react to it. They probably wouldn’t mind, if he really think about it, yet he still doesn’t feel comfortable enough to actually do it.

They part a while later, and Chan thinks that he’ll start seeing the boy more often. Mostly because he had to pester Minho to give him his number, and the other eventually gave in, but only after warning him to not be annoying. Chan doesn’t know why he’s so satisfied with himself as he heads back home. Maybe it’s because he thinks that Minho is really cool, and he’s heard from Jisung that he doesn’t get close to people super easily. He’s probably just happy about being able to make somebody open up to him. Also, Minho gives off a somewhat chill and mysterious vibe, and Chan would love to learn more about him. He just seems very interesting.

 

 

When they cross each other in the hallway now, they start greeting each other. Sometimes they even exchange a few words. Chan secretly finds himself excited to run into Minho, and maybe he goes out of his way to do so sometimes. Maybe. Sometimes, maybe his insides twist a tiny  bit when he sees him unexpectedly, but don’t ask him to explain, because he doesn’t understand why.

Chan never does actually text Minho, and one day when they run into each other after school again, Minho asks him about it. “I thought you wanted my number for a reason,” he says.

“Yeah, just so that I have a way to contact you if anything. I don’t really want to be annoying or anything, I do spam my friends often, which they don’t like. Don’t want to submit you to the same thing,” Chan explains, rubbing his elbow.

“Well, I wouldn’t really mind. I’m not as busy as you are,” Minho says, somewhat shyly.

Chan blinks at him. “Alright, if you want. But I warned you. Also, I’m sure you do have things to do. Mastering dance can’t be easy.” He laughs.

Minho rolls his eyes, “I’m not trying to master it, I’m not that good. I mainly just do it for fun.”

“You should show me sometime, I’d love to see what a dancer looks like in real life up close,” Chan casually says.

Minho looks at him for a solid second before saying, “I could show you now if you want. I’m free.”

Chan hesitates for a moment, because he had promised Annie that he’d watch a movie with her later in the evening. He figures that he can watch a movie with her at any other time, and he doesn’t know Minho as well, so who knows if this occasion will come around again. “Yeah, sure. Where are you gonna show me?” 

“My place, if you want. I usually practice in my basement. Also, my parents aren’t home, so you won’t have to endure any awkward encounters with them,” Minho offers.

“Sounds good.”

They hop onto a bus, because Minho lives a bit farther from the school, then they both walk leisurely toward his house, Chan following the other as Minho leads. It’s only once they step inside that Chan realizes he has to let Annie know that he won’t be able to make it for their movie, so he shoots her a quick text as an apology, hoping that she won’t get too upset over it. Even if she does get upset, though, Chan knows she’s forgiving.

“Welcome to my house. It’s pretty boring. You can leave your bag there if you want.” He points towards the living room couch, placed next to the entrance. Chan does leave his bag there. They waste no time heading towards the basement, Minho asking if Chan wants anything to drink and eat first. Chan declines the offer, so he shrugs and heads downstairs.

Once they get there, Minho hums in thought and says, “You can sit against the wall I guess. Sorry we don’t have anywhere to actually sit down here. We were gonna turn this basement into something nice, but never got around to it. Works for me though, cause I have space to dance.”

“I don’t mind, I’m just excited to see your moves,” Chan replies happily and plops down against a wall. He claps his hands excitedly and says, “Let’s go!”

Minho laughs shyly as he does something on his phone, probably picking a song or something, Chan figures. He selects something and music starts playing from a speaker that Chan hadn’t previously noticed. After he puts his phone down, Minho bounces a little bit as a warm up, and when the actual beat of the song starts, his body starts making coordinated movements that make it hard for Chan to look elsewhere.

Chan may be sporty, but he has a decent amount of interest in the arts. Believe it or not, he’s written poems and lyrics before, and if someone would ask him at the right time in the middle of the night, he might admit that he still does. This is why, when Chan watches Minho’s body move, he gets so deeply inspired to write something. In fact, he’s pretty sure that if he doesn’t immortalize this moment with words, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. So he stares hard. He memorizes every little movement, the whole feeling of everything put together, the way that Minho’s body looks amidst all of it, the way the light shines on certain areas of that same body, and then shifts when he moves again. It’s almost too much to take in.

When Minho finishes, panting slightly, he says, “Please ignore all of the mistakes I made.”

“Mistakes?” Chan is confused. “I didn’t see any mistakes. Probably because I don’t know how it’s supposed to be.” Minho smiles in a way that says ‘yeah I guess you’re right.’ Chan speaks up again and says, “It was really good though, I haven’t seen anything as cool as that in a long time.”

Minho giggles a bit. “Shut up. Thank you.” He goes to sit down next to him but he stumbles a bit, startling Chan.

“Whoah, you okay?” Chan asks, hands raised slightly, as if ready to catch the boy if he ends up falling.

“I’m good,” Minho balances himself against the wall, then raises a hand to rub his head. “Just a bit dizzy. Maybe I should have warmed up first or something.” He sits down next to Chan. “I’m okay.”

Chan feels a bit skeptical, but decides to not push it. “I’m serious though, you’re really good” he exclaims. He absolutely has to make sure that Mingho knows how great he looked.

Oh, no. Chan meant to think how great the dance looked, not Minho.

“Okay, if you say so. Not that I trust your jock opinion,” Minho says.  

Chan laughs at the jab, then says, “You should teach me how to dance sometime. If you want,” He adds the second part quickly.

Minho smiles at him and says, “I wouldn’t mind. I haven’t had somebody _this_ interested in what I do in a long while. The only problem is whether or not you actually have the time.”

Chan deflates. “I don't, you’re right. That’s not an issue though. We’ll just have to wait until summer comes around,” he explains simply.

Minho looks at him for a bit, analyzing Chan’s expression. “We’re still going to talk by then?”

Chan is confused. “Yeah? I would hope so.”

They sit around and chat some more until Minho decides that they should go back upstairs and actually sit on a couch rather than on the floor. They flip through a bunch of channels on the television, and eventually settle on watching infomercials. Minho comes back with an armful of snacks after asking if Chan was hungry. “I don’t know how to cook any _real_ food, sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly. 

“That’s alright,” Chan laughs. “Give me some of those barbecue chips.”

They lounge around, laughing at the products and imitating the salesperson on screen. Chan catches a glimpse of Minho’s laughing face every now and then, and he hates to admit the fact that he thinks it’s the cutest thing he might have ever seen. He also notices how much Minho went through the snacks, and comments, “Wow, you sure ate a lot of those.”

Minho turns to him and sheepishly says, “Yeah, I’ve been holding off this whole week, but I guess today’s a cheat day.”

“Yeah I feel you,” Chan says. Minho excuses himself to the bathroom, and Chan is left alone with his thoughts. And also some magical eraser thing being shown to him on the TV. He’s mainly with his thoughts though, and what he thinks is that he probably shouldn’t be feeling as comfortable as he does right now.

He shouldn’t be hoping that he’ll be able to come back here soon, but he does. He never feels guilty about hanging out with his friends, but he feels like he’s doing something wrong when he laughs around with Minho so much.

 

 

Chan does end up going back to Minho’s place rather soon, and it actually becomes a regular thing. Whenever he feels stressed or down, he texts the boy and next thing he knows they’re both laughing about some stupid shit, either in Minho’s room or at some park that they’ve wandered into.

Does Chan feel guilty about putting aside some of his homework or rescheduling dates with his girlfriend? Of course he does. Is he going to fix it? Probably not.

One night, when Chan cares a bit less about everything going on in his life, he ends up staying over at Minho’s much later than expected. Maybe his mother had texted him asking about where he is, but maybe he just happened to have left his phone on silent, and checking his phone when he’s with Minho is something that he doesn’t think of doing.

“Are your parents ever home?” Chan asks Minho, breaking their comfortable silence. He’s currently laying on the brown haired boys bed, staring at the ceiling, as the other is on his laptop on his floor underneath.

Minho looks up at him blankly. “Not really. They’re really busy around this time of year. You usually miss them when they are around though.”

Chan hums. He turns around to look at Minho after he went back to staring at his laptop screen. The colors coming off of it makes his face glow, and Chan thinks of the poems he’d written about the boy. The first one was the one inspired by the dance Minho had shown him, which was perfectly acceptable because it was a really cool dance. The second one may have been about how warm Minho makes Chan feel, and maybe it involved his beautiful smile as well. The third and latest one was about how Chan feels like Minho shines, both almost physically and metaphorically. He’s so pretty. That’s a fact that Chan has painfully started to admit to himself. There’s also something about his personality, about him as a whole, that makes him subtly radiate in Chan’s eyes. Kind of like everything is nice, but it’s boring and the same. Minho is nice too, but he’s so interesting, he’s so sweet and he’s so genuine. He stands out.

“Move over,” Minho says as he closes his laptop and places it on the floor. When chan gives him a questioning look, without making any effort to move, Minho rolls his eyes and groans as he pushes Chan to the side of the bed himself. He then proceeds to plop onto the surface as well, and stretches his limbs like a cat. Chan loves cats. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time around me lately,” Minho remarks.

“That I have. Do you have a problem with it?” Chan asks jokingly, turning to lay on his side so that he can face his friend.

Minho faces him as well and hums. “Not really. I just think it’s weird.” He shrugs.

“How so?” Chan raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t hang out with anyone this often. And even then, the other person isn’t usually the one to reach out first,” Minho explains. “That kind of makes me sound like a loser, now that I think about it.”

Chan laughs. “No, it doesn't. It just makes you sound like you aren’t too sociable. I don’t understand why people don’t ask you to hang out more often, you’re cool.”

Minho snorts. “Cool? Me? What are you saying, oh my god.  Why do _you_ hang out with me so often?” he asks and points a finger at Chan’s chest, poking him with it.

“I don’t know, maybe because I like your presence? Is that such a crazy concept?” He swats Minho’s finger away from him, but the other persists.

“Kind of. You’re weird,” Minho says and furrows his brows. He stops poking Chan’s chest and instead leaves his hand to rest right next to it. Chan is glad that Minho’s hand isn’t _on_ it, because he’s not sure how fast his heart is beating.

They stare at each other. Chan feels as though Minho’s eyes are trying to tell him something. Or, actually, they could be trying to ask something, rather than tell. He can’t decipher the look though, he just stares back at him. He wonders what his own eyes are trying to tell Minho.

When he leaves that night, while saying goodbye to Minho on his doorstep, he regrettably realizes that he doesn’t want to leave. When he’s laying in his own bed later that same night, he regrettably realizes that he wants Minho to shine on him so brightly that it burns his flesh.

 

 

“Why do you hang out with that guy so often anyway?” Annie asks Chan, throwing her legs over his laps as they hang out at his place.

“Cause he’s very chill and nice?” he asks more than states. “Am I not allowed to have friends?”

“You have friends. Your friends have never interfered with our time together, though. I wouldn’t have cared otherwise,” she explains to him, pouting slightly. “Isn’t he kind of a loser, anyway?”

“I’m sorry?” He turns to her, an annoyed expression on his face. “I thought we were well beyond judging books by their cover or by what others might have to say about him. Why would you say that about him without even knowing him. Don’t you think he might be a good person if I find him so worth my time?” He feels his anger rise, ready to defend Minho as much as it takes.

This isn’t even just about Minho though. Chan hates it when people assume shit about others and treat them poorly based on those assumptions. Annie should know this.

“You’re right, sorry,” she apologizes with a low voice, twirling her hair. It’s a nervous habit Chan noticed she had. “You didn’t need to snap at me…”

“You’re right, I’m sorry too,” he sighs.

She crawls into his lap and puts her arms around his shoulders. Chan looks up at her, then closes his eyes when he feels her lips press against his. They get into their usual comfortable pattern, Chan’s hands trailing here and there, and they go further when she encourages him. It feels good, very good. Chan doesn’t manage to stop himself before he wonders if it’d feel different with Minho.

 

 

Weeks pass by and Chan finds himself getting busier and busier. He picks up the slack in his studies when his parents noticed the fluctuation in his grades, he continues going to soccer practice and he makes more time for Annie due to her complaints. All of this means that he gets to spend less time with Minho, and he’s not sure if it’s a good thing or not.

He’s studying with Woojin when the other asks him, “So, you and Annie going to the dance together?” In all honesty, Chan had completely forgotten about the upcoming spring dance, and he doesn’t really care. The guys make it a big thing into coming up with cute ways to ask girls out to the dances, or maybe it’s the girls who make it a big thing. Either way, all Chan knows is that he’s supposed to do the same for Annie, even though they’re already dating. If he doesn’t do anything, word will spread. He used to care about that kind of thing, but now he’s not so sure.

“Yeah. Who else am I supposed to go with?” he asks, twirling his pencil and leaning back.

“Don’t know. I was just asking to see if you’ve come up with a way to ask her,” Woojin clarifies.

“I haven’t,” Chan admits. “I’m honestly kind of too busy for that. We’ll just go without making a big deal out of it.”

“Will she be okay with that?”

Chan finds out whether she’s okay with it or not when Annie gets mad at him later that day. “Why does it feel like you just don’t care about anything lately?” she asks him with frustration in her voice and on her face.

Chan wonders. It’s probably because he doesn’t. He doesn’t care about anything as muchh lately and he’s starting to feel sick of how people expect him to. High school was fun and all, but now it got boring. Being the best at things was cool for a good while, but now he realized that it’s not what he cares about. He would rather try to finally learn how to dance, he’d like to go get his ears pierced, he’d like to write poems and lyrics and he’d love to write songs and play them for people, all of which his parents have deemed to be useless. He doesn’t care about his popularity and he doesn’t care about what people think of him anymore.What’s the point of getting good grades and being well liked if he’s not having any fun anymore. What’s the point of trying to appease his girlfriend if she’s starting to drain him more than anything.

He loves her, yes, and he loves his friends and he loves everything about his life, but he’s starting to wonder whether that love is genuine or if it’s just there because it’s all convenient and comfortable.

 

 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just feel kind of drained lately. Maybe all the school work is finally getting to me.” He rubs his eyes to emphasize his tiredness. “You know I care about you.” And it’s true that he does care about her. He’s just bored.

He’s also a bad and selfish person.

Annie deflates and goes to hug him. “Listen, I’m sorry. I think I’ve been acting a bit selfishly lately. I guess I forgot about how much pressure you have from your parents to perform well, and pressure in general. We don’t need to do things together as often for now, I just want to see you be full of energy again.”

And that’s why, even though Chan is bored, he could never do anything to hurt Annie. She’s a very considerate and sweet person, and he knows that she just wants him to be happy. She deserves his best efforts.

“You don’t have to think of a creative way to ask me out to the dance, we’ll just go and have a good time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chan nods. She kisses him and his stomach twists.

 

 

“So, I heard that you didn’t do anything special for your girlfriend,” Minho tells Chan as they sit in front of each other at the same Starbucks they first properly spoke in. Chan gives him a questioning look and Minho adds, “You know, for the dance.”

“Yeah, I guess I just didn’t really have the time to come up with anything. I think we should be beyond that point anyway in our relationship,” Chan says, then takes a sip of his coffee.

Minho hums. “Maybe you could have had more time if you wasted less of it with me,” he says jokingly, but Chan doesn’t like the look in his eyes.

“I don’t waste my time when I’m with you. You’re fun. I mean, you’re kind of mean sometimes,” Minho pretends to be offended, “but overall I enjoy spending my time with you.”

Minho smiles a bit and looks down at his cup to avoid looking Chan in the eyes. “You’re ugly.”

Chan pouts and feigns hurt. After a while he says, “Hey, so. I know you’re not really the type, but one of my friends is throwing a party at his place this Friday, and I was wondering if you’d like to go?”

“Party? Like a _party_ party? With alcohol and dancing and stuff?” Minho asks cluelessly.

Chan sighs, “Yes, a _party_ party. You know, with your semi trashy look, people would expect you to be, like, cooler.”

Minho laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous, absolutely nobody would ever expect me to be cool. Except for maybe you, but you’re weird.”

Chan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. But anyway, you in?”

Minho shrugs and says, “Sure. Will you be picking me up?”

Chan does pick him up on that Friday. Unfortunately, Minho makes himself look extra attractive that evening, and Chan doesn’t even have the power to try to deny that fact to himself. He’s wearing all black, and the shirt he’s wearing exposes his collarbone a bit too much.

They get to Changbin’s place, but right before going in Minho turns to him and says, “Actually, Chan, I’m nervous.” His voice sounds a bit rough, and he rubs his left elbow.

“It’ll be fine. You already know some of the people there, and everybody else is going to be too drunk to care. And I’ll always be around, if anything,” he tries reassuring him, placing a hand on the other boy’s shoulder. Minho seems to lose his balance a bit and breathes heavily, and Chan wonders if he really is that anxious. “Hey, you don’t have to go if you’re not up for it. I can take you back.”

“No, it’s fine,” Minho replies. “I just feel kind of light headed. I’m probably just overreacting.”

Chan hesitates and takes a good look at his friend. He looks kind of sick. “I don’t know, Minho. You don’t seem well.”

“I’m fine,” the other boy almost growls. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. I can deal with it.”

They share a long look before Chan finally gives in and says, “Fine. But let me know if something’s wrong, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The party is already in full blast. Chan was a bit late because he had to convince his parents that it was alright for him to come here, as they were concerned about his recent behavior. Honestly, he might have still went even if they refused until the end.

Chan goes straight to find his friends, and Minho closely follows behind him. It’s cute.

About two and a half hours later, Chan isn’t sure where Minho is. One moment he was in the kitchen shoving food in his mouth, the next he was in the living room, dancing with other people. They were all, of course, impressed, from what he remembers. Not that that’s a shocker to Chan. If they weren’t impressed, it’s because they were either too drunk or too busy sucking somebody else’s face. Kind of gross.

He gives up trying to look for his friend for now and decides to head to the bathroom upstairs. Chan tries turning the doorknob but notices it’s locked, so he sighs and waits. He’d rather not risk going to the downstairs one. If there’s people fucking in this bathroom, he’ll just go piss outside, honestly. He puts his ear against the door, like a creep, to assess what’s happening inside. Luckily, there’s no moans or anything, but what he does hear, a few seconds later, is the strangled sound of somebody throwing up. Then, a wave of panic sweeps over Chan, because what if it’s Minho? He hadn’t bothered checking the bathrooms.

“Is everything good in there?” he shouts over the door as he knocks. Immediately, all sounds stop. “Hello?” Still nothing. Chan waits for a few seconds before knocking again. “Minho, is that you in there?”

“No,” a hoarse voice replies. Obviously Minho’s.

“Minho, do you need help?” Chan asks, very concerned.

“No, I’m alright. Just give me a second.” The sound of the toilet flushing followed by a sink running fills Chan’s ears for the next few moments, and he steps away from the door when it finally opens.

Chan takes a good look at his friend. He looks messier than he previously remembered. His eyes are mildly red, though Chan can’t tell because the lighting is bad, and he looks really tired. “Sorry,” Minho says. “I think I drank too much.”

Chan purses his lips and thinks. He didn’t think Minho was the drinking type, at least not an over drinking type, and he can’t remember seeing him do so. It feels weird. “Let’s get you some water,” he finally says and places an arm around Minho’s back to lead him into the kitchen. He makes Minho drink two full cups of water before deeming it to be safe. “We should probably head back.”

“Okay,” Minho says weakly.

They head back, much sooner than Chan was expecting to, but he doesn’t mind. He walks Minho to his front door when the boy turns around and asks him, “Could you stay for a bit?”

“Yeah, okay,” Chan replies. His heart speeds up a bit, because this is a new situation for him. Minho still looks hot, despite also looking kind of sickly, and Chan doesn’t know if Minho is sober again or not. And Minho’s parents seem to, yet again, not be home. Chan feels a bit of anger rise within him at the thought that Minho rarely has any parents to come back home to, but he stores the feeling away for later.

They step inside the house and take their shoes off, then Minho heads to his room without bothering to turn on any of the lights on the way. “I’ll just go to the bathroom real quick,” he says and leaves Chan alone in his room, sitting on his bed.

He doesn't know what to do with himself. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s feeling too many emotions at once, and he’s trying to decipher them. There’s concern, for one. He hates that Minho has to look so… frail, and also somewhat dazed. Then there’s stress. He’s stressed because he feels like he should be taking better care of his friend, but there’s also some general stress that he can’t seem to pinpoint to anything. What else is he feeling? He feels some anxiety. The anxiety probably comes from everything else. Lastly, he feels what he thinks is intense attraction. There’s no other way to look at it. He’s awfully attracted to Minho. He knows the boy threw up not too long ago, but he still wants to kiss him.

Not only does he want to kiss him, he wants to feel inside of his mouth, run his tongue over his teeth. He wants to grab his arms and grab his waist and he wants to pull Minho against him and he wants to bite into his neck and rub himself against his thighs.

Oh, he also feels something else. Could be tied into the anxiety, maybe, but he feels fear. Fear because he knows this is wrong. He has a girlfriend. He has parents who love him and his girlfriend. He has friends who trust him fully. If they found out that he’s into dudes, nobody would trust him anymore. That’s why having these thoughts about Minho is scary. It’s wrong. Not because being into guys is wrong, but because people will be disgusted with him if they find out. It’s a bit frightening.

When Minho comes back into the room, looking slightly better, Chan’s fear doesn’t disappear. They stare at each other before Minho breaks the silence and says, “What?”

“Nothing. Am I not allowed to look at you?”

“No,” Minho says and goes to sit against his bed’s headboard. Chan snorts. He turns around and crosses his legs on the bed so that they’re facing each other. “You’re looking at me again, even though I said you’re not allowed.”

“Guess I’m into rule breaking lately. How are you feeling,” Chan asks. Minho seems a bit more like his usual self, if not just tired.

“I’m okay,” he answers and smiles faintly. “Can I ask you a question? You have to be one hundred percent honest.”

“Sure,” Chan says, heart rate picking up again at the anticipation of the question.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Minho asks softly. “Or, wait. Do you think I’m good looking?”

Chan freezes. Does he think Minho is good looking. Chan holds himself back from telling the truth about how badly he wants to fuck his friend, and instead answers, “Yes.”

“Really?” Minho asks. Chan can’t decipher the tone in his voice or the look on his face. “Like, _how_ am I attractive? Cute? Handsome? Hot?”

Chan hums contemplatively and says, “All of the above. You can also add pretty and beautiful and any other positive adjective that you want.” He wonders if that was a bit much, but then feels good about himself when Minho appears to blush.

“Wow, okay. Are you sure?” he plays with a loose string on his pants. “Maybe you’re just tired.”

“Nope, you can ask me at any other time and I’ll still say the same thing. Or maybe a bit less, just because my filter would be a bit more functioning.“ He laughs slightly.

“So you’re telling me that you’re more honest right now?” Chan nods in agreement. “Can I keep asking you questions?”

“Taking advantage of my tiredness, I see. Go ahead.” Is he going to admit that the idea of Minho taking advantage of him sounds appealing? Sure, why not, at this point.

“Do I actually dance well?” Minho starts.

“Absolutely,” Chan answers.

“Do you truly like soccer?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How many of your friends are actually your real friends?”

“I only have real friends. Anyone else is an acquaintance.”

“Am I an acquaintance?”

“No, you’re a friend.”

Minho pauses a bit to think of more questions. “Have you ever been in love?”

Chan tries to stop himself from laughing at how cliche the question sounds. “I think so.”

“With who?”

“My girlfriend. I think I really was in love with her.”

Minho stops. “Was? As in, in the past?”

Oh. Chan’s like this now, is he? “I… Yeah. In the past. I think my feelings are dying.”

“Why?”

Because I’m bored. Because of you. “I’m not sure.”

“Alright,” Minho says.”I’ve never been in love.”

“Never?” Chan raises an eyebrow.

“Nope, but I think it would be nice to be. That is, only if my feelings are reciprocated.”

“Makes sense, yeah.”

“If I can be honest with you, I don’t think I’m ever going to get the occasion to be in love. But it’s okay, maybe love is stupid anyway,” he says, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“And why is that?” Chan presses him to elaborate, almost offended that Minho feels that way.

Minho hesitates. “I just don’t feel like I’m allowed to. Like I’m not meant to. I don’t know.” He looks to the side.

“You’re wrong, I’m pretty sure. But I guess that changing the way you think is not something that I could easily do, is it?”

Minho looks back at him and smiles sadly. “Yeah, probably not.”

They sit in silence, and Minho motions Chan to come sit next to him rather than in front, and he does so. “I should probably head back home soon,” Chan says after settling down.

“Aren’t you a bit too tired to drive? I’ve heard that’s as dangerous as driving drunk,” Minho says.

“Oh, maybe. Do you want me to stay over?” Chan asks.

“Yes,” Minho says plainly and rests his head against Chan’s shoulder and also throws his arm over his torso. “Is this okay?” he asks.

Is it okay for Chan’s heart? No. But is it _okay_? “Yeah.”

As the night progresses, they find themselves cuddling more than anything, with light sleepy chit chat. Minho says a lot of dumb shit when he’s sleepy, and all Chan wants to do is to giggle and pull him closer, though they’re already pretty close with Minho pressed against his chest and their legs intertwined. This moment is so good, too good, and Chan wants to enjoy it as much as he can. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to do this again, or if he’ll even let himself to.

He thinks Minho must have drifted off into sleep. They’re still in their party clothes, and they’re above the covers, and the more Chan stays in this position the more discomfort he feels, but nothing would make him break away from Minho right now. The other’s head is tucked into Chan’s neck, and Chan think about whether it’d be morally right or wrong to do what he’s about to do.

He rests his nose against Minho’s hair and inhales deeply, secretly cherishing the smell. It’s mostly just like what this house smells like, but with a faint touch of some sort of fruity shampoo. He breathes the scent in a couple of more times, finding it weirdly calming. Unconsciously, he closes the distance between his mouth and Minho’s head, and presses a light kiss into it. Then maybe he did it again, but he was half asleep at that point, so he wouldn’t be able to remember.

 

 

Light bleeds through the window onto the wall opposite of Chan, tinting the room a soft orange. His body feels really uncomfortable, and he badly needs to pee. He tries to move, but realizes that there’s a weight pressing down on him, then he remembers last night’s events. Minho is snuggled against his chest. This reminds Chan of a dilemma he has had to face before, where his cat lays on top of him and he really can’t move no matter what because it’s adorable and he doesn’t want to upset the cat. He would absolutely say that this is the exact same thing. Except he really can’t hold it in anymore.

“Minho,” he lightly nudges the sleeping boy. He stirs from his sleep and tiredly blinks at Chan. “I need to pee.”

Minho gives him a weird look. “Then go,” he answers with a croaky voice.

Chan sighs and pushes the other off of him and makes his way to the bathroom as quietly as possible. After he finishes and washes his hand, he hears a sound coming from downstairs and wonders whether or not Minho woke up, but a wave of anxiety runs over him when he goes back into the room and sees the other still sleeping.

“Hey,” he says in a hushed tone, and when Minho doesn’t move he goes to shake him. “Dude, someone’s downstairs.”

Minho rubs his eyes and sits up. He stays still and listens, and when the sound of a cupboard opening and closing reaches them his eyes widen and he looks at Chan. “My parents are home.” Chan makes an ‘oh’ sound and Minho mutters, “Fuck.”

“Is that bad?” Chan asks worriedly.

Minho hesitates. “Maybe. Maybe not. I just wouldn’t know how to explain why you’re here.”

“Just tell them the truth?” Chan suggests.

“They can’t know I went to a party, they’re really,” Minho stops speaking mid-sentence and curses. “Your car is parked right outside, they know somebody is here.”

Chan sits down next to Minho and says, “Okay, let’s calm down. We weren’t doing anything wrong or illegal, okay? There shouldn’t be a reason to be so stressed about it.”

Truth is, he doesn’t know much about Minho’s parents, but he’s gotten the sense that they aren’t too great. If Minho is as anxious as he is right now, that can’t mean anything good. He doesn’t want the boy to get in trouble just because of him.

“It doesn’t matter. They might think we _did_ do something wrong,” Minho says.

Before Chan can think of anything to answer, they hear a feminine voice yell, “Minho, are you awake?” Chan shouldn’t have went to the bathroom. They stare at each other with wide eyes, not sure what to do. Their panic increases when they hear footsteps coming upstairs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Get in my closet.” Minho says and drags Chan up with him, shoving him in the closet, then closing it as quickly as he can when there’s a knock on the door. Chan hears the sound of Minho heading towards the door and opening it. “Hey, mom. Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she says, her tone dripping with confusion. “Why are you dressed like that at this time in the morning?”

“Oh, I’m supposed to be meeting up with some friends in a bit,” he explains to her casually. Chan is impressed at how naturally Minho lies.

“It’s 7 AM right now, what time are you guys supposed to meet? Also, who are you meeting and where are you going?”

“We’re meeting at around 10, but I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep, so now I’m just trying on outfits. I’m meeting with Hyunjin, Seugmin and Jeongin. We’re going out for brunch.”

She hums and says, “Alright, do you need a ride?”

“No, it’s alright, I’ll take the bus.”

There’s a short silence, and Chan assumes that she might be leaving, but then he hears, “Oh, by the way, do you know who’s car that is parked in front?” Chan feels as though his breathing is a bit too loud, so he tries slowing it.

“No,” Minho answers plainly. “I don’t spend my time staring out the window.”

“You could have just said no, don’t give me that sass,” she says sternly, and Chan hears her walking away. Minho closes the door and Chan lets out a big breath. For a while, there’s just silence, before he hears Minho approach the closet. He opens it and their eyes meet. Minho pulls him out of it without saying anything, then he wraps his arms around Chan and makes them fall onto his bed.

Chan doesn’t say anything, but he hugs Minho back. They lay around for a while before Chan asks, “How do I leave?”

“We’re gonna have to tip-toe downstairs quietly when she enters her room. My dad doesn’t seem to be here, thankfully, so it should be easier.”

“Okay. What are you gonna do? Like, where are you gonna go while you’re supposed to be out?” Chan asks.

“I don’t know. I’ll find something to do,” Minho sighs.

“Wanna hang out?”

Minho snorts. “Don’t you think I’ve seen enough of your face for now?” A second of silence passes before he mutters, “Fine. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

They sneak out of the house successfully after Minho changes into more comfortable and fresh clothes. They end up hanging out at Chan’s place after Chan properly introduces him to his parents, and they smile at Minho sweetly and tell him to feel at home.They pass their time playing video games and then attempting to cook some tasty food to eat. The presentation of said food ends up being ugly, but it tastes good so all is well. Minho later bakes some banana bread that he had learned how to make a while ago, and Chan is once again charmed by the boy. As if he hadn’t already fallen for him enough, now it’s like the world is trying to make sure that he’s gone for Minho.

At the end of the day, Chan starts remembering yesterday’s events, mainly about how Minho got sick. “How much did you drink yesterday?” he asks him as they sit on their phones in the living room.

Minho looks up, seemingly confused for a second, before answering, “Ah, I don’t remember.”

“I’m just asking because I’m concerned, you didn’t seem to be doing that well yesterday even before the party.”

“Nah, don’t worry, I’m fine.” He smiles. “I think it’s sweet that you care so much, though.”

“Well, duh. You’re my friend, of course I care.” And that reminds Chan of how much they cuddled that night, and even this morning. It’s not that Chan isn’t used to being affectionate with his friends, it just felt different with Minho. This is bad.

When Chan gets into his bed that night, thoughts of Miho haunt him. Why did Minho get sick when he was obviously lying about having had too much alcohol. Why couldn’t he just tell him the truth. What if Minho has some serious illness that he isn’t telling Chan about? Why did Chan still find Minho to be attractive in his fragile state, is there something wrong with him? Does Minho also feel like their cuddling was special. Chan hopes so. Does Minho think he’s attractive? Would Minho ever be willing to date him? Why does Chan even like Minho so much in the first place. Why can’t he just go back to being straight, he doesn’t want to be into guys. Not that there’s a problem with being into the same gender, but it’s just too complicated for a person like him. Would his parents be okay with him dating a guy? Would his friends be? Would people truly feel betrayed if anything with Minho does end up happening. If anything with Minho happens, would he even tell anyone. Would he break up with Annie? What does he want to happen with Minho.

From there the rest of his thoughts end up taking a heated turn, and the feeling of his guilt and his lust mix together, and he feels ashamed, but he’s also starting to get painfully aroused. Minho’s eyes, Minho’s lips, Minho’s tongue, Annie’s tongue, Minho’s fingers, Minho’s hair, Minho’s legs, Minho curling his toes, Minho cursing, his parents cursing, Minho moaning, Minho sweating.

Chan dies inside after he cums, and there’s a disgusting and uncomfortable web enveloping his insides. He’s scared but he’s also thrilled, and it’s too much for him. He just wants to fall asleep.

 

 

He doesn’t see Minho as often after that time, and he doesn’t know why. They don’t run into each other in the hallways as much and they text less often, and Chan hates himself for how desperate he is to just to be able to see him. To his misfortune, he never gets the time to hang out with him. Either he himself is busy or Minho also has plans. He’s so frustrated. His friends notice it.

“You haven’t been hanging out with Minho much lately,” Changbin points out to him as they wait for some others to show up so that they can go out  and eat together. “You guys were practically glued to the hip at some point.”

Chan sighs. “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess we’re both busy, our schedules don’t seem to match up anymore.”

“I see,” Changbin hums. “So, like, can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable.”

“Okay,” Chan says hesitantly, crossing his arms.

“Is there something going on between the two of you?” he asks shyly, seemingly unsure if that was the right way to ask his question.

“Do you mean, like,” Chan trails off, hoping Changbin gets what he means.

“Yeah, like, more than just friends kind of thing, maybe.”

“No,” Chan says after a moment of contemplation. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, I don’t really know Minho that well myself, but you seem to have gotten _super_ close to him, I was surprised you weren’t always by his side at that party I threw a while ago. Jisung talks to him more than I do and he’s told me that apparently all Minho does lately is talk about you, which is, in Jisung’s words, ‘grossly cute.’” Changbin elaborates, then waits patiently as Chan takes a few moments to respond.

“He talks about me?” he asks dumbly, trying not to overthink it and trying not to show any sign of weakness.

“Oh my god.” Changbin deadpans. “You guys have a thing for each other, don’t you?”

“Dude,” Chan says in a panic. “What the fuck. I have a girlfriend.”

Changbin rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, a girlfriend you’ve been starting to neglect ever since you met Minho.”

“It’s not like that,” he cuts him off.

“But it is,” Changbin cuts _him_ off. “Listen man. I don’t care if you’re into dudes-”

“I’m not into dudes,” Chan cuts him off again.

“You _are_ , shut up. Listen, bisexuality is a thing, it’s fine. I would know. I’m bi, Chan,” Changbin tells him.

“You’re bi?” Chan asks him with genuine surprise. “And you didn’t tell me before?”

“You didn’t tell me you were sucking Minho’s dick,” Changbin retorts.

“I am _not!_ ” he almost shouts. “What the fuck. This is so weird, mate. Don’t do this to me.”

“Not that you heard this from me, or that you heard it at all, but a lot of people that you know are gayer than you’d think they’d be. That’s all I want to say. Oh, and also, break up with Annie.”

Chan frowns. “I can’t do that.”

Changbin frowns. “Yes, you can. And if you care about her and her feelings, you will.”

“I do care about her and her feelings. I also care about my parents and their feelings and even Annie’s parents and their feelings. They _love_ us as a couple. You think I’m gonna ruin all of this just cause I want to kiss some boy?” he defends his point angrily.

“Aha, I was right! You do have a thing for Minho.” Chan looks at him in disbelief. Changbin clears his throat. “Listen, I get it. Maybe not completely, cause nobody really expects me to act a certain way, and I know that people do for you. I just think that what you’re doing is bad. You won’t be able to keep this lie up forever. It’ll all come crashing down, and you’re going to hurt so many feelings. More than you would if you just ended things now. Don’t just think about your parents and Annie, think about Minho. You’re hurting him too by doing this.”

“Why would I be hurting him?”

“Because he has a thing for you too! And your dumb ass wants to go around making out with your girlfriend that you don’t really like just cause you’re scared.”

Chan is silent for a while. “Okay, so even if Minho does have feelings for me, and even if I don’t have feelings for Annie, it’s not that simple. You have to understand that my parents are homophobes. I mean, they don’t mind gay people, but if their son is gay that’s where they draw the line. My family and Annie’s family are so close, too, her whole family will hate me if I do anything to her.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I want to let you know that you’re already doing something to her. Just saying. Continue,” Changbin says.

Chan sighs heavily and resumes. “It’s just, breaking up with her would be really hard on it’s own, then if they find out _why_ I broke up with her… I don’t know what’ll happen. I’m scared.”

Changbin’s features soften and he places a hand on Chan’s shoulder. “Buddy, it’s okay. It is scary. I don’t know why it’s so hard for others to understand that certain people like the same gender. It’s not even any of their business. It’s a gross and violent world.”

“It is,” he agrees. He genuinely doesn’t know how his family would react. They never even talk about anything gay related, ever. All Chan knows is that time where his dad said he tolerates his gay coworker, but he warned Chan to not be like that. He said that his coworker was gay because he wasn’t raised well enough. He then praised his mother and himself for doing a good job, then praised Chan for his good grades and his involvement in sports and for being well liked and well behaved.

“One time,” Changbin starts softly, “I had this friend that I made on an online roleplaying game, lame, I know. We ended up getting close enough to the point where we added each other on social media and would talk almost every day. I learned that she was a trans girl and also she was a lesbian. She got a lot of shit when she tried coming out to her friends. They kept asking if it wouldn’t be easier if she just ‘stayed’ as a guy. Honestly this was the first time I had encountered any of this kind of stuff, and it’s thanks to her that I realized I’m bi.”

“I see,” Chan says, urging his friend to continue.

Changbin frowns slightly and continues. “I remember when she came out to her parents as trans. They really didn’t take it well. Like, it was _really_ bad. She told me that she’d be fine and that it didn’t matter, but we stopped speaking a while later cause she just disappeared. To this day I don’t know what happened to her, but I hope she’s okay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Chan says and analyzes Changbin’s face for a while. “Was this story supposed to make me feel better?”

Changbin blinks and says, “Oh, no. I just got reminded of it. That probably wasn’t the most encouraging thing to say right now, was it?”

Chan sighs. “No, Changbin, it wasn’t. Now I just feel worse.”

“Well, at the end of the day what you gotta remind yourself is of the fact that if you keep up whatever you’re doing now, you’re just going to end up miserable. Even if you do put up a good act without cracking, you’re going to suffer. Wouldn’t you rather live your life as the person you are rather than the person expect you to be?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, well I know. People can’t truly be happy unless they’re living their truth. If your parents love you, they’ll accept you as you are. If they don’t, find new parents.” Chan laughs at the suggestion. “I know your friends are going to accept you, we care about you no matter what. And if people around the school start gossiping or start some shit, we’ll be here to defend you.”

“Thank you, Changbin. I don’t think I have the strength to this any time soon, though. A while ago I felt as though I didn’t care about anything anymore, but I guess I still do.”

“That’s alright, take your time,” Changbin says sweetly. “Just don’t leave that Minho guy hanging. I can sorta see why you like him. You should introduce him to us better at some point.”

“Okay, at some point I will.”

 

 

Chan doesn’t really do anything for the next couple of weeks. He makes no moves to try facing his issues and his fears, he just keeps acting as he usually does. He does see Minho a bit more often, but it often feels like he can’t connect with the other boy quite as well now, and he wonders if Minho really does have feelings for him too. He wouldn’t say that it isn’t a possibility, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“So, the dance is soon, huh?” Minho brings up while they sit together in Chan’s car eating McDonalds.

“Sure is. You going with anyone?” Chan asks as he steals one of Minho’s chicken nuggets. The boy gives him a death glare.

“Not, like, romantically. I’m going with my friends cause none of us have a date.”

“Ah, that’s fine. Many of my friends don’t have a date either. Actually,” Chan pauses to finish chewing on a fry, “I was wondering if you and your friends would like to hang out with our group?”

Minho blinks a few times and says “Sure, why not. I’ll ask them. We don’t generally have anything better to do.”

“Great!” Chan is happy at the idea of getting to hang out with Minho during the dance. His happiness dies the second he realizes that he has a date for that dance. Minho might have to see him be affectionate with somebody else. Fuck, Chan didn’t think this through.

He looks over at Minho, and notices that his friend’s cheeks have gotten a bit rounder than he remembers them being. It’s so cute. Minho’s so cute, he can’t stop himself when he reaches over and pinches his cheek.

Minho stops chewing on his food gives him a dirty look. “The hell are you doing?”

“Sorry,” Chan says, “Your cheeks seem to have gotten cuter lately.”

“People used to pinch my cheeks a lot when I was younger,” he says, and continues to swallow his food.

“I bet you were adorable,” Chan coos.

“I was fat. Also, are you saying I’m not adorable now?” Minho tries to look as offended as possible, and Chan laughs.

You look beautiful now. “Never said that. You know I think you’re good looking. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

Minho blushes. “I haven’t. How can you say that kind of thing so freely. Don’t you think it’s kind of weird?”

Chan presses his lips together and asks, “Why would it be weird?”

“Because I’m a guy?” Minho suggests.

Chan frowns, and he doesn’t know what to answer, so instead he asks, “Did you just steal my last fries?” Minho laughs a pretty laugh.

 

 

It’s the day of the dance, and Chan is super nervous. It always felt like it was so far away in his mind, but now it’s here and now he has to publicly pretend to be in love with his girlfriend. He feels bad even just having that thought, but what can he do.

His group of friends arrives at the school’s gym, except now the gym has funky lights and mildly good music playing. Chan isn’t a fan of the music, but he doesn’t hate it, he guesses. He exchanges texts with Minho and their groups manage to find each other. As it would turn out, almost everyone already knew each other one way or another, and it didn’t take long before they were all laughing together.

Annie is glued to his arm, and he barely manages to rip away from her for a second to go speak to Minho. “You look really good,” he tells him after taking in his formal attire.

“Thanks.” Minho smiles. “So do you.” Chan smiles back at him.

They don’t really get to talk much more than that, but Chan can’t take his eyes off the other throughout the evening. He watches the way Minho laughs around people, the way he goes to eat the snacks, the way his head sometimes bobs to the music, the way he sits and blankly stares off into the distance. Something seems really off about him, though. Everything he does seems to feel…. empty. Like he’s acting on autopilot rather than actually being there, and Chan feels concerned.

“Are you okay?” He manages to pull him aside for a second, hand softly gripping the other’s arm to see if Minho will tell him anything.

“Huh?” The boy seems confused. “What? Yeah. I mean, actually, I don’t feel too great. I don’t know why,” he says absently. “Can you let go of me, please?” Chan does let go of his arm, but it only gives him anxiety, because Minho is usually never uncomfortable with touching. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” With that, he starts making his way out of the gym, and after staring at his back for a while, Chan decides to follow him.

Minho ends up retreating to a further bathroom, and Chan wonders why he had to go so far out of his way. Something tells him that he’s not going to like the reason behind it. He quietly approaches the boys bathroom and listens, reminding him of that time at Changbin’s place. He really gets reminded of what happened that time when the sound of somebody gagging reaches him, and Chan thinks he gets it.

Minho is _making_ himself throw up.

Minho is purposefully throwing up, and it explains so much. It all clicks in Chan’s head when he thinks of the boy’s often fragile state, the occasional red eyes, the bad things Minho occasionally says about himself. His apparent binge eating, his excusing himself to the bathroom every time he does. It was so fucking obvious.

Chan bursts into the bathroom and Minho startles from his position over the sink, panic in his eyes. “Minho.”

 “What the hell?” The other gets mad. “You followed me? That’s fucking creepy.” The hostility in his voice startles Chan, but he still makes his way to the boy, who only steps back. 

“Don’t do that,” Chan says sternly, at a lack of better words with how his chest in pain.

“Fuck you,” is what Minho has to say to him, and it hurts. “Don’t do what? Leave me alone.”

“I know what you were going to do. Don’t act stupid with me. You think I wouldn’t have noticed?” Chan grabs Minho’s wrist more aggressively than he would have liked to, but Minho doesn’t quite resist it.

“I said leave me alone,” Minho raises his voice. “Go back to your fucking girlfriend and mind your own business.”

Chan tries to ignore how his heart cracks at that and replies, “This is my business. Why won’t you let me care about you?”

“Because you don’t!” His voice is laced with venom. “Fuck you!” He finally tries to pull his arm away from him, but Chan won’t let him.

“Shut up,” he snaps. “What the fuck makes you think I don’t care, you’re being so goddamn fucking ridiculous and childish!”

“Nobody cares about me! That’s why. I’m weird, I’m ugly, I’m annoying, I’m gross and I’m fat and I’m a fucking faggot and nobody loves me and my parents beat me because they know I’m a piece of shit and my friends are only my friends because they feel bad for me,” Minho starts rambling, getting more and more frantic as he goes on, and Chan tries to get a grip of him when Minho starts to shake, having a hard time standing the more he goes on.

“Minho,” Chan tries saying as calmly as possible, “Minho listen to me. You’re not any of those things.”

But Minho doesn’t hear him and he keeps saying, “I wish I were fucking dead. I’m so fucking ugly and stupid holy shit it makes me sick.” He seems to remember that Chan is in front of him when he looks up to meet his eyes, which only makes him burst into tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Don’t look at me, fuck.” He repeats himself over and over again and his breathing is labored and Chan is so stressed and upset he might start crying himself. He gently pushes Minho against the wall to steady him, then he just keeps him there as the boy goes on and on.

When Minho’s breathing calms down, he gently calls his name. “Minho, hey.” This seems to backfire, as it sends Minho into another shaking fit, and he tries to push Chan away from him.

“Don’t look at me,” he almost wails. “Don’t look.” Chan lets out a pained breath as he keeps his hands on Minho’s arms, trying to give him a reassuring squeeze. “Stop being nice to me,” Minho says eventually. “It’s awful.” 

Chan softly rubs his hands down the boys arms and asks, “Why is it awful?”

Minho releases another pained sound. It’s unbearable for Chan to hear. “Because I’m stupid. Because I’m stupid and I fall for any guy who’s even slightly nice to me. Go away. Please, I want to die. I’m so fucking humiliated. Please, I’ve told you everything. Please, leave me alone,” he says with an unstable voice. He slides down the wall and hides his face in his knees, and Chan lowers himself to sit down in front of him and pulls him into a hug, which Minho only weakly resists.

He’s not sure what to say. He’s never been in this kind of situation, and he’s never had anyone break down like this, so suddenly, right in front of him. It might be one of the most difficult things Chan has had to witness, and it’s even more difficult because he cares so much about this boy. So much. And he hates that Minho feels the way that he does, he hates that anything would have ever led him to believe that he’s anything less of an amazing person. He hates that Minho has to feel so ashamed about himself, and he hates that he doesn’t know what to say to make him feel better. He hates feeling so useless in front of him.

A couple of minutes pass where the only sound resonating against the bathroom walls is Minho’s uneven heavy breathing. Then, out of nowhere, he rips himself away from Chan’s arms and gets up to walk towards the sink. Chan follows him with his eyes. When Minho leans down and brings a finger to his mouth, he hastily gets up and yells, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He immediately grabs the boys arm and pushes him against the wall again. Minho’s eyes look so dead. “Minho,” he says.

“What?” he answers, visibly tired from all of the crying.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Minho gives him a confused look. “Can you please not throw up tonight? Or if you can’t do that much, can you please resist for the meanwhile?”

Minho sighs and leans his head back, bringing up a hand to rub at his temple. “You don’t get it. And why does it matter to you?”

“Because,” Chan stutters, and he’s really nervous, and he doesn’t know if this is a good idea. “I really want to kiss you.”

Minho gazes at him blankly. “What? Fuck off.” He tries pushing Chan away, but he holds Minho in place.

“Please, I’m serious. I really, really like you.” Chan is willing to beg.

Minho frowns. “Stop playing with my feelings. You have a girlfriend.”

“I like you more than I like her,” he simply says.

Minho snorts. “Wow. You’re awful. Don’t you care about her feelings?”

"I do.” Chan sighs. “But I’m scared. I’m scared because I don’t know how to break up with her, and I’m scared because I like you so much. You just admitted that you fell for me, so why can’t I admit the same.” The other boy looks away, and Chan says, “Please, Minho.”

“It’s,” Minho starts then stops. “Sorry, I’m just. Realizing that I completely broke down in front of you like that. I’m so, so embarrassed, and I’m even more sorry.” He keeps avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t care,” Chan says. “It’s okay. It happens. You’re okay. I still like you, and it breaks my heart to hear the stuff you said about yourself. No words can express how I’m feeling right now. I just want you to feel alright and loved and safe.”

Minho sighs, appearing to be at a loss for words. “I’m tired,” is what he says, closing his eyes.

“I know you must be. In more ways than just one,” Chan says soothingly.

The boy smiles sadly and opens his eyes again, then he grabs Chan’s blazer, because they were at their school dance not too long ago, and he asks “Do you really want to kiss me?”

“Yes,” Chan breathes.

“Okay, then you may do so. I’ll let you have my first kiss,” Minho softly says just barely above a whisper.

Chan blushes and slowly leans in, afraid of accidentally breaking the boy in front of him. When their lips meet, he instantly relaxes into the kiss. Minho seems a bit stiff, but gradually gets the hang of it. They separate after a small while and look at each other, catching their breath. Chan leans back in and presses harder, moving his mouth more confidently, and Minho follows his movements. And it feels like Chan has just now realized how thirsty he was and how good it feels to have Minho against him like this, and he feels like his sanity might slip away at any second, so he pulls away from Minho, who looks at him questioningly, then he pushes him into the farthest stall and locks the door behind him.

“Just in case somebody comes in,” he tells him. Minho makes an ‘Ah’ sound and Chan kisses him quickly again, pushing him back against the wall. When he pulls away he says, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this for, Minho?” He pecks the other’s lips another time, not giving him a chance to reply. “So long. So fucking long. You’ve been slowly driving me insane.” Minho let’s out a low whine, which Chan swallows immediately.

“Fuck,” Minho groans. Then he says, “Fuck,” again, but this time more desperately. Chan pushes his thigh in between Minho’s legs while pressing kisses all along his throat, nibbling softly here and there. Minho grabs onto him, digging his nails through the fabric on Chan’s back, and Chan bucks into him, getting off to the noise Minho makes.  

Their lips reconnect, and Minho slowly rocks himself against the thigh that’s pressed against his crotch.

“Hello?” The bathroom door abruptly opens and both boys immediately freeze, broken out of their spell.

“I don’t think he’s in here,” a voice resounds a second later, one that Chan recognizes as Jisung’s. A pair of footsteps echoes against the wall and approaches them. Chan and Minho stare at each other with their eyes wide.

There’s not much time to think before Chan decides to fuck it. “Just run,” he whispers to Minho, who only respond by looking at him in panic. He doesn’t get the chance to react when Chan unlocks the bathroom door and pushes it open, grabbing Minho’s wrist and running right past by a startled Woojin and a shocked Jisung. They run as fast as they can, all the way to the school’s entrance. Chan uses all of his power and does his best to drag Minho right behind him, who clearly isn’t as used to running as he is.

Once they’re outside, Chan still doesn’t stop running, despite hearing Minho’s strangled “Fuck, wait!” He slows his pace down, but keeps going until they turn onto another street and he deems it safe to stop. Once they do, Minho goes into a short coughing fit, and Chan holds onto him so that the boy doesn’t lose his balance. “What the hell!” Minho exclaims after calming down, but still panting.

“Sorry, I panicked,” Chan says sheepishly. Minho stares at him in disbelief, then they burst into a fit of laughter.

“Oh my god,” Minho says between breaths. “Oh my god, this is so ridiculous. You’re so stupid. Oh my god. What just happened.”

Chan is still laughing. “I don’t know.” He’s smiling widely, then he pulls Minho up to him so that he can give him a smooch, which Minho giggles into. They take the time to recollect themselves before starting to wander down the street. “Well, that’s that,” Chan says.

“That is indeed… that,” Minho repeats.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Chan starts explaining. “We’re going to go to a park and sit on a bench, then we’re going to cuddle and make out on it, right underneath the moonlight.”

Minho blushes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s awful. But, you know what? Yeah, okay. Let’s go.” He reaches out for Chan’s hand, and Chan grabs it more than happily.

Chan feels amazing, he feels so good. He feels so light and he feels so happy and he can’t believe that he’s actually getting to do things that he’s always wanted to do with Minho. He can’t believe he can actually kiss him and hold his hand and he’s so thrilled that he could cuddle with him without being scared of overstepping any boundaries. A world of possibilities has just opened right in front of him, and Chan is so excited to explore it.

“You’re so pretty,” he tells Minho once they manage to find a bench, arm draped around the other’s shoulder. “You’re so beautiful and precious. Every little single thing about you is endearing.”

Minho throws his head back, whining in embarrassment. “Don’t say that. Thank you so much. You’re so handsome. You’re so sweet and you’re so kind, and when you say that kind of thing to me, I really might feel like I could believe it. Not now, but maybe at some point.”

“Good, I want you to believe it. There is so much more that i want you to believe, I can’t wait to tell you everything that’s good about you, I’d probably never stop.”

Minho laughs shyly and leans against Chan. “Thank you,” he says quietly. Chan presses a kiss onto his head, and his hold on Minho tightens. They sit, breathing in the cool night air and listening to the sound of distant traffic. In the distance, they see somebody walking their dog. Chan gets stressed for a whole second before he realizes that it doesn’t matter if the person sees them. “Can I talk about what happened earlier?” Minho asks.

“Hm, which part? I feel like a lot has happened on this night,” Chan says jokingly.

Minho laughs weakly. “Yeah, that’s true. But, uh, I wanted to talk about my whole breakdown. I’m still kind of high key embarrassed about it,” he explains.

Chan softens and says, “Of course, baby. You can tell me anything.” Minho visibly melts at the pet name, burying his face in Chan’s neck.

“Well, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry again. You really didn’t need to hear the ugly things that I said.” Chan is silent to let him continue talking. “I’m. I’m also sorry about not telling you some of that stuff sooner. I do make myself throw up after eating. More often than I’d like to. It’s not something that I can help. It started off with me saying that I’d only do it once, but then I started doing it more frequently, and for a while it got to the point where I couldn’t eat without immediately going to the bathroom to get rid of it as soon as I could. I’m a little better now, but as you can see, I still struggle with it.

On the day that you took me to that party, I could not stop throwing up everything I ate. Even the day before. I wanted to look as attractive as possible to you, but I understand that I probably ended up looking more sick than anything. And I know that it’s not how it works. I know I won’t magically become skinnier or more attractive if I just keep making myself puke, but my brain doesn’t fucking get that. I feel so guilty after eating food, it seems like the most logical response is to get rid of it. I really wish I wasn’t like this,” he finishes.

Chan rubs Minho’s shoulders soothingly and says, “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to deal with, and I’m sorry that it’s such a struggle in your daily life. I really wish I could help you with this, but I know that there really is only so much that I can do. What I _can_ do is be here for you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Minho agrees. “Also, there’s something else that I wanted to address.” Chan encourages him to keep going. “So, um, I mentioned that my parents beat me,” he says weakly, and Chan’s grip tightens slightly, anger rising in his chest. He tries his best to push it down. “And, well, they do. But, it’s not that bad. I mean, that kind of thing really doesn’t happen often.  I mentioned it because I was freaking out about everything, but I don’t want you to think that it’s that bad.”

“Minho, I want to believe you, but the fact that your parents harm you in any way at all, no matter how often, is really bad,” Chan says calmly.

Minho just breathes for a bit. “Maybe. I mean, they aren’t around all too often, and they’re easy to avoid. I could have had it worse.”

“Don’t say that kind of thing,” Chan stops him. “God, I just wish you didn’t have to put up with that. I wish you were able to come home to your parents more often and I wish that they were nothing less than loving and supportive. I’m kind of really mad right now.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to let you know about it. I don’t know what to do, honestly. I feel so helpless about so many things,” he sighs.

“It’s okay, I can help you figure it out. I’m no expert on anything, but I’m willing to find out more about all of this stuff. You shouldn’t have to suffer alone,” Chan reassures Minho, then presses another kiss onto his head. “Everything will be alright for you.”

Minho smiles weakly and asks, “And what about for you? What are you going to do about your whole reputation, about your family, about your girlfriend?”

Ah, he’d forgotten about that. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ll deal with it. For real, my reputation doesn’t matter so much to me anymore. I’ve spoken to a friend before about this, and I know that I’ll have people who support me no matter what. As for my girlfriend, I won’t have a choice but to break up with her. I won’t particularly enjoy doing it, but I like you too much _not_ to. And in terms of my family… I don’t know.”

“They seemed nice when I met them,” Minho tells Chan, playing with the fabric of Chan’s shirt.

“That’s because they are,” he says. “But I know they would hate to find out that I like making out with you, a boy.” He successfully makes Minho blush. “Seriously though, I don’t know. I can’t think about what I would do if I don’t know what _they_ do first. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

“Makes sense,” Minho says.

They have a lot of bridges to cross, and it seems very daunting and Chan would lie if he said that he’s any less scared than he was before. If anything, his fear kind of escalated. The only thing he can really say is the fact that he feels like this same fear might be a bit more manageable than he thought. He stares up at the moon and what little they can see of the stars, but he thinks he’d much rather focus on the boy in his arms. He’s warmer, he’s prettier, he’s kinder, and he shines brighter.

 

 

“We should probably head back soon,” Minho says sleepily, voice bittersweet.

Chan hums. “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY FOR THAT CHEESY ENDINGG LMAOOO. im a man who really likes this kind of thing. 
> 
> this wasnt like suuuuper well proofread or anything so i hope there arent any really obvious errors. i'll edit it again later probably. 
> 
> hope you liked it!


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